Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I pout at the gray winter rain, at the drip,drip, drip in the living room, at the coldwind-whipped drops flung against my westwindow. I pout at the yard getting soggierand boggier and I feel the moldgrowing on my winter soul.

I demand water on my own terms! Give memist from a breathtaking waterfall to refresh me on a fiercesummer day. I insist on a steamy hot bath with a closeddoor and a good book. I need to coast north in the warmGulf Stream with Caribbean fishes at my side.